


Rise and Grind

by LasciviousPeach



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Politics, Dialogue Heavy, M/M, Not Beta Read, Representative Madison, Senator Jefferson, Senator Washington, alex is an intern, pretty sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 16:20:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12708543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LasciviousPeach/pseuds/LasciviousPeach
Summary: “Can I get a name for your order, sir?” Alexander asked politely, his black sharpie already beginning to press into the cup.The man rolled his eyes and huffed out an annoyed sigh. Like, by requesting his name, Alexander had inconvenienced him more than any person ever had. He eventually spits, “Jefferson,” and Alexander just had to cross the J before sitting the cup down.





	Rise and Grind

**Author's Note:**

> A little one shot that completely ran away from me. Written to help me overcome the serious writer's block that's been stopping me from finishing TAOTC and my nanowrimo story. 
> 
> Any comments/kudos are appreciated more than you could ever know. 
> 
> (May this be your reminder to never purposely mess up a person's order because not only is it very rude but they could be allergic or unable to tolerate any alternatives)

Alexander punched in his time card with a sigh, and grabbed his apron off the back of the door with a sigh. When he moved to Washington D.C to pursue his dream of being a politician, this really wasn’t what he had in mind. He knew when he packed his last bag in his shitty New York apartment that he wasn’t immediately going to be granted an incredible position - people wait lifetimes for those - and he knew he should be grateful for the mere opportunity to intern with Senator Washington. 

It didn’t mean he had to be happy about how he earned his living though. Alexander pushed through the door and stepped to the back of the counter. Out of all the entry level positions he could have hopped for, being a barista wasn’t exactly what he had in mind. He was still extremely thankful that it was both close to the capital and also close enough to the apartment he shared with his coworker John. 

“Thank God you’re here, Alex.” Peggy Schuyler said as she rounded the back corner with an armful of trays. Alexander rushed towards her, grabbing one of the trays before it could fall to the ground. 

“You want me to put these in the display case?” He asked, carefully setting the pastry filled tray down on the counter. The coffee shop technically opened twenty minutes ago, but Alexander knew there wouldn’t be any customers for another ten to fifteen minutes. 

Peggy flashes him a grateful smile, “Would you please?” She murmured sweetly, “I still have to go take the next batch out of the oven.” 

He nodded at her and watched as she passed by him to head back into the backroom. Alexander opened the glass display case and carefully began layering the pasties. The door opened and Alex glanced up and sighed a breath of relief when he sees who it is, “Would you help me out please?” He inquired, smiling when John jogged over to grab the empty pastry tray. 

“Is it just you and Peggy?” John questioned as he carried the tray into the backroom. Alex followed, wiping the icing from his hands onto his apron.  

Alex hopped up onto the counter next to the man and sighed, “At the moment, yes., but I think Herc said he was working today too.” He watched as John punches in his time card and takes the second to last apron off the door. 

John took an extra bag of coffee grains out of the cabinet and let them fall down next to Alex with a loud  _ thump _ . “How was last night? How late did Washington keep you out? I didn’t even here you come in.”

Alexander ran his fingers across his eyes and groaned miserably. The answer was evident in every ounce of his body. From the dark circles that were under his eyes, to the exhaustion that set heavy and unforgiving in his bones. His hair was greasy, and Alexander honestly could not remember the last time he washed it. 

“I think I got in around three, but I didn’t get to bed until after four.” He explained sheepishly, knowing how protective John could get about his sleeping - or rather lack of - habits. 

He doesn’t miss the way John’s mouth falls open at his answer, “Jesus Christ Alexander, it’s eight-thirty. That means you probably got, what, three and a half hours of sleep? You know this isn’t healthy.”

Alexander immediately goes on the defensive. He expected the lecture, but that doesn’t mean he wants to hear it. “It’s not going to be like this forever, John. Washington just has us working later than usual because Congress is being a bitch. Everything will lighten up once Madison will stop being an asshole and purposely putting the nation at risk because he refuses to vote against his party.”

John casts him an incredulous look, probably because he knows as well as Alexander, that Congress has - and probably will always be - a bitch. Even after Washington successfully gets Representative Madison on their side, there will be others. There is always going to be other politician too afraid of party boundaries to vote with their conscience. John Laurens - son of Senator Henry Laurens - of all people would know it. He must take pity on Alex though, and decided that the man was exhausted enough without adding a lecture on top of it. He narrowed his eyes at Alexander before smiling that boyish grin of his, “As long as it doesn’t interfere with poker night, you know how Lafayette gets.”

Alexander grinned back at him, at the same time that the front door chimed with the invitation of a new customer. “Back to the grind.” He murmurs to John with a wink at the irony, before sliding off the counter and hip checking the door open. 

He walked to the counter where there was a single man standing. Alex took a single second to evaluate the man. He was tall, well dressed (maybe a businessman or a lawyer), a halo of brown curls around his head, and an annoyed tilt to his full mouth. It’s not until he spoke that Alexander put it all together. 

“Large regular coffee,” The man snapped rudely and Alexander arched an eyebrow. The Southern accent, the obvious display of wealth, the rudeness that vibrated from him. Oh, yes, Alexander would recognize him anywhere. 

“Can I get a name for your order, sir?” Alexander asked politely, his black sharpie already beginning to press into the cup. 

The man rolled his eyes and huffed out an annoyed sigh. Like, by requesting his name, Alexander had inconvenienced him more than any person ever had. He eventually spits, “Jefferson,” and Alexander just had to cross the J before sitting the cup down. So he was right. Thomas Jefferson, Senator from Virginia. The Capitol’s resident asshole. Washington had spent more days complaining about him than anyone else in the Senate - and House - combined.

“Give me one second, sir, and I’ll have your coffee ready.” He replied with tense politeness. 

Jefferson rolled his eyes again - Jesus did his mom not tell him that  they’d get stuck like that - and pulled his phone from his suit pocket. Alex took the cup, with Jefferson written sloppily enough that it looked like Jetterson, and purposely filled it with decaf coffee. He took his time filling the cup with coffee and then fumbling with the lid. He took long enough for Jefferson to answer an incoming phone call, and turn facing away from Alexander, to speak to the person on the phone.

He waited until Jefferson started to speak before he called out - quite obnoxiously loud - “Order for Jefferson!”

The man turned back to face Alexander deathly slow, and Alex tried to keep his face neutral. He knew when Jefferson glanced around the store, that the fact he knew he was the only man in the store wasn’t lost on the him. Jefferson rolled his eyes painfully hard and all but stormed out the door, like a child. Alexander, unable to help himself, called after him in his most patronizing voice, “Have a nice day,  _ Mr. Jefferson. _ ” The door slammed shut behind him with a satisfying  _ thud _ , and Alexander crossed his hands over his chest with a smile. 

He opened the store the next morning, thanking every deity he’d ever heard of that Washington hadn’t needed him the night before. It was the first time in a long time that Alexander had fallen asleep before midnight, and he even managed to finish his newest anonymous pamphlet. He just needed to email it to Burr, who would either print it or refuse to publish it until Alex took out the more controversial parts.  _ (He had a reputation to uphold after all.) _

They hardly ever got a customer before 8:30, so Alexander took to preparing a few of Peggy’s easier pastries and desserts. He was hands deep in dough when the door outside chimed with an entering person. Alexander spared a glance at the clock. 8:15, so it was probably just John or Hercules. He turned back to the dough in front of him, kneading the air bubbles out of it carefully. He concentrated on the task carefully, until a distinct clearing of a throat brought him back to reality. 

Alexander withdrew his hands and then went to wipe them on the front of his apron before stopping himself. Peggy would no doubt yell at him if she had to wash his apron prematurely again. He grabbed a dishcloth from beside the sink and wiped away the remaining dough and flower from his fingertips. 

He hip checked the door open, one arm carrying a tray of biscotti and the other pulling a single black sharpie from the front of his apron, “Welcome to Rise and Grind what can I get you?” He asked, glancing up from the the tray to look into the eyes of Senator Jefferson. 

The man was on the telephone and barely spared Alex a glance. He set the tray down on the counter and turned to face the Virginian. “What can I-”

He was interrupted when Jefferson glared at him and spit, “Large  _ regular  _ coffee. Black.”

Alexander smiled at the emphasis on regular. “And can I get a name for your order, sir?” 

There was that awful sigh again and then Jefferson rolled his eyes, “Jefferson.” It was almost like he expected everyone to know his name and just having to inform the barista was a blow to what Alexander was sure was a very big ego. 

He scrawled  _ Jetson  _ across the coffee cup and filled it halfway full of regular coffee. He glanced up to make sure Jefferson wasn’t paying attention (he wasn’t) and the filled the rest of the cup with soy milk. He handed the cup to Jefferson and watched as the man escaped the shop without even testing the drink. Alexander smiled and began wiping down the counter. 

He spent that night across the desk from Senator George Washington of Virginia - a complete opposite of his fellow Virginia Senator. Washington was an imposing figure. Tall and dark, with broad shoulders and calculating eyes under unruly brows. He was a handsome man, quiet and beyond intelligent.

Alexander was speaking with Aaron Burr about his newest pamphlet when Washington marched out of his office and requested Alexander’s presence at once. The entire room of interns had turned and stared at him, jealousy evident in their anger filled eyes.  

“Of course Senator Washington,” Alexander had said calmly although he was dying on the inside, as he followed the man into his office. 

Washington had asked him about how they could solve the deadlock in Congress. Remembering his conversation that he overheard Jefferson having with Madison, Alexander quickly devised a plan in his head. 

“Madison is more than ready to vote with us, sir. The only thing holding him back is Senator Jefferson. Jefferson doesn’t want to break party lines and he’s encouraging Madison not to either. We can either convince Jefferson to vote against his party - which is going to be unlikely - or we can convince Madison to vote against Jefferson and his party - which is going to be even more unlikely.” 

Washington rubbed his chin thoughtfully before he spoke, “Today’s Wednesday.” He bit his lip, “I’ll speak with Jefferson Friday night.” 

Alexander nodded and stood up, “Sir.” He said as a parting. 

He started making his way towards the door when Washington spoke again, “I expect you to accompany me, Hamilton.”

Alexander bit his lip and managed to compose himself enough to turn around to face the Senator, “Of course, sir.”

He didn’t make it home until three that night, and even then, the constant turning of his stomach was keeping him awake. He found solace in comfort of the bathroom floor, spending a good hour convincing himself that  _ no, he was not sick. And no, he was not going to throw up. _ It wasn’t until four-thirty that Alexander managed to peel himself off the floor and sneak into John’s bedroom. 

He opened the door slowly, flinching at the loud squeak that echoed down the hall. Alexander tiptoed inside and let his eyes adjust to the lack of lighting. John was laying on his stomach, comforter lazily covering the lower portion of his body, fast asleep. Alexander climbed beneath the covers, curling up close to his best friend. John made a noise in the back of his throat as he blinked open his eyes. He seemed confused for a second, to see another person in his bed, before he must have figured out that it was Alex. He shuffled closer, wrapping an arm around Alexander and pulling him close against his clothed covered chest. Alexander closed his eyes, and finally found sleep. 

He woke up before John the next morning and bleary made his way to the coffee shop. He still felt the sickness inside him, but pushed it down and prayed to God that he wasn’t coming down with something. Hercules was opening the store, so Alexander didn’t have to clock in until 8:15. 

He slide off the bed and took two steps before he decided, “Fuck it.” and laid back down beside John. He rolled over and shook the man next to him awake. John groaned and glanced up with sleep clouded eyes. 

“Will you please cover my shift today?” Alexander pleaded, “You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t an emergency.”

John yawned tiredly and stretched out in the bed, “Yeah I can. Herc’s opening right?”

Alexander nodded pathetically, shivering and groaning when another wave of nausea hit him. John dressed quickly and then walked back over to the bed. He pulled the comforter up around Alex’s neck. John gave him a quick kiss on the forehead before Alex heard the door shut behind him. 

He woke up at noon with a new test message from John. 

_ A guy named Jefferson asked about you _ . 

Alexander’s eyebrows jumped to the his hairline. Another message came in a second later. 

_ Well he didn’t ask for you by name. He just asked where the annoying guy who always messes up his coffee was _ .  _ You didn’t tell me that Senator Jefferson was into you _ . 

He rolled his eyes and fell back asleep. 

He woke up Friday morning feeling like an actual human, much to his - and John’s relief. He requested off at the cafe today, because Alex knew how important the meeting with Jefferson and Washington tonight was. He spent the whole day reviewing his newest pamphlet for Burr, and ended up getting dressed and leaving with only a few minutes to spare. 

Jefferson’s office was exactly what Alexander had expected. It was a ridiculous display of wealth that made Alexander cringe. Alexander followed Washington slowly, noticing the way Washington stopped to make small talk with Jefferson’s secretary. 

The secretary greeted them without question, telling the both of them that Mr. Jefferson was expecting them. Washington stayed back a second to talk to the secretary as Alexander went ahead back. Alexander noticed as he rounded the corner, that Jefferson’s office door was open. He could just make out the conversation that was happening inside. 

“Jemmy, I don’t think you understand.” He recognized Jefferson’s voice clearly, “I haven’t spoken more than ten words to him. Not to mention that he’s  _ young _ , like twenty’s young.”

“You’re already publicly out, so If you’re interested then just ask him out.” James Madison’s voice replied. Alexander felt like this was a very private conversation that he shouldn’t be listening to. He stopped cold and prayed Washington would hurry and catch up. 

“And what if he rejects me?” Jefferson’s voice was harsh, “What would I do then?”

Madison snorted, “If he rejects you then you would have an excuse to stop going to that coffee shop. I know he’s the only reason you go there, but God knows why. You said he doesn’t even make your coffee right.”

Alexander had a distinct feeling that he knew who they were talking about. 

Alex could hear Jefferson’s frown when he spoke, “He doesn’t mess it up too bad-”

“Soy milk, Thomas.” Madison said, “You hate soy milk. Just ask the kid out already.” 

There was a long pause before Jefferson replied, “I was going to yesterday, you know, but he wasn’t there.”

“Do you at least know his name?” Madison continued as if Jefferson hadn’t said anything. 

“The guy that was there yesterday said his name was Alex.” Jefferson murmured, quiet but just loud enough that Alexander could hear it. 

At the same time he realized that they were definitely talking about him, George Washington rounded the corner. He walked forward, large legs compelling him past Alexander to knock sharply on the open door. 

“Senator Washington! I was expecting you.” Jefferson said as a hello. Alexander stepped forward beside his boss and purposely kept his head lowered. 

“Senator Jefferson, Representative Madison, I’d like to introduce you to my intern: Alexander Hamilton.” 

At the mention of his name, Alexander looked up and made eye contact with the man sitting down at his desk. Jefferson looked as put together as usual, but his cheeks flushed when he realized who Alexander was, and that there was no way he didn’t hear the conversation Jefferson was having with Madison about  _ him _ . 

“It’s nice to meet you,  _ Alexander _ .” Jefferson said slowly, the word sounding foreign on his tongue. 

Madison glanced back and forth between the two of them, with a confused look in his eye. It eventually must have clicked because the Representative’s mouth fell open an inch. 

“Alex?” He asked, the question directed at Jefferson. 

The Senator’s mouth remained in a firm straight line when he spoke, “Alex.”

Madison’s lips twitched up as he watched the situation with nothing but amusement. 

Washington’s face betrayed nothing but puzzlement, “Alexander?”  

Oh if only the floor could open up and swallow him whole. Alexander knew that wouldn’t happen though, so he swallowed down his embarrassment and stepped forward, “It’s nice to meet you both. Shall we get down to business?”

The meeting went smoothly after that, and they managed to not only get Jefferson’s support, but also Madison’s pledged vote. And if Jefferson refused to meet Alexander’s eye during the meeting, well at least they got the vote they needed. 

Alexander crawled into bed a little after one and couldn’t help the smile that seemed permanently glued to his lips. 

He opened the cafe the next morning, and there was a specific lack of Senatorial asshole. 

The smile twitched. 

He opened the cafe again, Sunday morning, and there was still no asshole. 

The smile dissipated a fraction, but Alexander was sure it was just because Jefferson didn’t work on the weekends. Everything would be normal come monday. 

He opened the cafe Monday morning, and he never showed. 

The smile was gone. 

It was a week after the disastrous/semi successful meeting that Alexander found himself opening the cafe again. He was in the back, hand deep in a more complicated pastry recipe that Peggy had showed him, when the front door chimed. 

He wiped his hands on the front of his apron, ignoring the look Peggy shot him from the sink, and smiled at her. 

He pushed open the door with his hand and greeted the person standing in line, “Welcome to-”

The greeting got caught in his throat when he saw who was standing there. “Jefferson,” Alexander said simply, his eyes running over the figure in front of him. 

Jefferson shoved his hands into his coat pockets and smiled, “I know you just opened, but I was wondering if you could take your break? So we can talk.”

Alexander felt the smile grow across his lips as he shrugged off his apron, “Of course. Give me one second.”

He ducked back into the kitchen to tell Peggy he was taking his break early, and ignored the confused look on her face. 

When he walked back out, he grabbed two cups and filled them both with regular coffee. Alexander carried the cups out and sat them down on the table Jefferson had grabbed. The older man took a sip of his coffee and smiled, “So I guess you do know how to make coffee.” 

Alexander snorted softly and took a sip from his own. He bit his lower lip and glanced up at Jefferson from under his lashes. 

“I’m assuming you overheard my conversation with Madison.” Jefferson started. 

Alexander frowned, “I did, but I swear it wasn’t my intentions to eavesdrop.”

Jefferson hurried to correct the assumption Alex had made, “I believe you. I just- I wanted to tell you myself.”

“You still can,” 

The man frowned but eventually nodded, “Alexander, I know we don’t know each other at all really, but you intrigue me. I know there’s quite an age difference, and I know you work for Washington and I won’t ask you to quit or anything.” Jefferson spewed, stopping to take a deep breath. He looked at Alexander as if waiting for the man to say something. 

Alexander smiled and leaned forward to spin Jefferson’s cup around. Jefferson looked down at the side of the cup, and there under his name, was a phone number.=

He watched in awe as a genuine smile spread across the Senator’s face. “You’ll call me won’t you?” Alexander asked playfully when Jefferson was leaving. 

“Of course,” Jefferson had replied with a charming grin on his face. 

Alexander watched as he left, Jefferson stopping to wave one last time before walking out of the shop. The door slammed shut behind him with a satisfying  _ thud _ , and Alexander crossed his arms over his chest and smiled. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on tumblr: willieverbesatisifed


End file.
